


The Grand Old Game

by Ononymous



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 19:20:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12372345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ononymous/pseuds/Ononymous
Summary: Gerson was surprised to see the former Royal Scientist return. And even more surprised at how their interests suddenly clashed.





	The Grand Old Game

"Okay! I'll part from it for twenty, but no lower!"

"Fine."

The chubby man rummaged in his wallet for the appropriate notes, and placed them in the leathery green hand which was already outstretched. The hand was replaced with its mirror image, and a small slab of metal with the Delta Rune stamped into it was offered for him to take.

"Pleasure doin' business with ya! Enjoy yer piece of Monster History."

Satisfied, the man took the slab and walked out the door, crossing the street to where his wife was procuring some Nice Cream.

"Heh," said Gerson, "tourists."

Pulling open a drawer behind the counter, he rifled through a few dozen identical slabs to the one he just sold, picked one up, and placed it on the recently vacated cushion. It wasn't fraud, he would never knowingly sell something by lying about what it was. These really had been made as commemorative souvenirs a couple of centuries ago for the Queen's birthday, and they were meant to be limited edition. Asgore had just ordered way too many, and it was easy to preserve them. All the better. With business concluded, he sat in his chair with his magnifying glass, examining a china cup a human sold to him the other day. It made a change from seeing if the same rock he'd seen thousands of times held something different, even if he hadn't gotten up to speed on identifying Victorian antiques from mass produced replicas. His monster clientelle would happily buy either, so while he waited for that book he ordered, he split the difference and marked it for sale as a special. 

He'd just placed the cup over in the "Human Artifacts" section when the door jangled. He slowly turned to deal with the customer, and his yellow eye widened with recognition as he regarded the lanky figure.

"Wa ha ha, Dings! How's existence treating ya?"

Doctor Gaster examined his hands, which seemed to continuously quiver on the cusp of melting. "It is... heavier than I remembered."

"Want a Sea Tea? Or do you eat or drink anymore?"

"I daresay I'm out of the habit. It's best if I take it up again."

Gerson nipped behind his counter, grabbing a pitcher and two glasses from a concealed fridge. He filled them up with the aquamarine liquid from the pitcher, and handed one to Gaster.

"To yer health." He downed his glass in one. Gaster brought his own to his face, and when he withdrew it the liquid had diminished. It wasn't clear how this happened.

"Ah, refreshing," said Gaster. "The flavour is different from before. Ingredients from the surface?"

"Heh! Always had a sharp tongue, even though you don't have one. Yeah, I found a dash of lemon juice is easier than trekkin' back to Waterfall to collect the condensation of the Echo Flower caverns."

"Ah, that would be cumbersome indeed."

"So Dings, had much chance to explore the pleasures of food?"

"No. I have been involved in many projects since I... stabilised. I've had no time for more than simple sustenance."

"Ha! You were like that before anyway! Also, uh, been meanin' to ask. No chance you can explain how the heck you came back more simply?"

Gaster looked mildly surprised. "You were there when the human child presented me to the King and Queen. I believe the explanation I gave at the time covers everything."

"An' I remember thinking that at the time. But now when I try to recall it, all I remember's a headache."

"Hmm," he examined his fingers, "I suppose my existence here hasn't been fully accepted by the universe yet. I shall look into it."

"You do that."

Gaster looked thoughtful. Or to put it another way, Gaster looked like Gaster. He raised his glass again, and then put it down on the counter, completely drained.

"So, what brings a scientist round here? Ya starting a collection of china cups? 'Cause I got a couple of nice ones over here, they might be a couple o' hundred years old..."

"I doubt it." Gaster had a cup in his hand examining it, as if he had moved to do so before Gerson asked the question. "There are machine tool marks on the handle. Too small for most to notice, but the pattern suggests techniques only used in the last few years. I've been playing catchup on human technology."

"Well damn. Better lower the price then."

"To answer your question, I wondered if you could sell me one of Queen Toriel's birthday souvenirs? I've misplaced my own, as is wont to happen over decades, and I admit I was rather fond of it."

"Heh! Nice to see you're still even softer on the inside than you look these days." He took another one out of the drawer. "No charge. After all I missed yer birthday."

"Ah, thank you old friend." Gaster pocketed his slab. "And your words have more truth than you think. Where I was, I was naught but mind. No body, no emotions. All I could do was think. Feeling is as forgotten to me as drinking. Sans has been tremendous help reintroducing them to me. I now laugh for longer when he tricks his brother with a whoopee cushion."

"Wa ha, that definitely killed the mood when you came back. Nice of the Queen to laugh though."

"Certainly. Do you know the first emotion I recognised on my own? Gratitude. I felt grateful to the human child for reuniting me with my friends and family."

"Well, after what they did-" he winced slightly as he thought of it, "-whatever they did to pluck you out of nothingness, that's perfectly natural."

"Yes. I have strove to return the favour, for they have problems I believe I can solve. They visit my lab from time to time, and their earnest curiosity is rather endearing. I'm reminded of Sans when he was younger."

"Izzat right? You reckon they're like your kid?"

"Well no, of course not. The King and Queen have won that role, and fill it splendidly. They have not said anything, but to me they feel like... a grandchild."

"Really?" Gerson's other eye opened slightly.

"Indeed. It was the same with my grandpapa. I would ask questions about what he was working on, and he would explain it. The child, Frisk I mean, asks me how I fare, and I try to explain. Even if they do not understand everything, the important part is I am a font of wisdom for them."

"Well that sounds right an' proper. But, eh, you may be gettin' the wrong idea about their wisdom."

"Oh?"

"See, when I was yay high, I'd sit in the sun with _my_ grandpappy, an' he'd tell me fun stories about everyone he met in his life. And he met a lot! Now half of them he probably made up so he looked better and to explain that scar on his shell, but they always had a lesson. Been passing my own stories to them ever since. Heard it helped them get to know their new parents."

"Oh, you regard Frisk as kin too? A laudable view, Gerson."

"Yup! An' I'll tell ya, I'm the best kin!"

Gaster's form seemed to stabilize.

"It doesn't have to be a contest. Surely we can enjoy their company in our own ways."

"Afraid to back up your fancy words about wisdom? Guess I win by default. Ha!"

Gaster's control over his emotions was rather rusty, and he couldn't keep an impulse of envy in check. "Well perhaps I should redouble my efforts. The human child shall truly appreciate the benefits of science under my patient tutelage."

"An' they'll be the best storyteller since King Asnaul at his daughter's wedding in 12XX, an' they'll thank me for it at my funeral!"

"No need to be morbid. But I assume you are challenging me on this? Who is the superior grandfather?"

"Yup!" He wheeled around and headed for the back door. "I'll show my way's the best, and that'll put paid to... to..." he stopped. "What was I doin' again?"

"Trying to one-up me."

"That's right! Oh, Dings! Forgot about you for a moment there."

"I get that sometimes. I believe it should wear off over time."

* * *

Doctor Gaster's lab was a shed behind Sans and Papyrus' house. Sans had help him set it up, citing personal experience. It did not have the room of the Royal Laboratories of Hotland, but it gave off a cosy feel he approved of. Although that feel was suppressed to a degree by the clinical white tiles he had installed. He was writing up an experiment report on the computer. He was also scribbling down equations on a blackboard. He tried not to do this in company for it could appear unnerving, but his experience had given him abilities a mere skeleton never could. Many hands make light work. However his present company was excluded, for he was also turned to face Frisk, who had come by to visit.

"...so you see, by cross-referencing the anomaly with DT fluctuations, it is possible to glean slight glimpses into that timeline. By studying the point the initial chronometric splintering occurs at the awakening, this creates a byline that cross references the wielder of the DT with bonds forged with others, regardless of date, and from there, possibility expounds exponentially."

Frisk sat on their chair, smiling politely. It was the smile Papyrus often wore when his admirable efforts to keep up with his explanations had finally failed.

"And that is why," Gaster concluded, "the glitter of a glamburger is edible. I apologise, I went on something of a tangent there." They giggled. "Now as for your personal projects, unfortunately I have not yet established a coherent line of inquiry. But by cross referencing the anomaly- Oh, there I go again."

Frisk's smile faded a little.

"Don't worry, young one, I am confident of eventual success. However in the meantime, while I was reviewing the core's stability with the reduced staff to supervise it, Doctor Alphys showed me some of her own work. It is remarkable what she can achieve in the realm of mechanics and electronics. She's a worthy addition to any team dedicated to pushing the boundaries of knowledge. But I believe I can improve her design in some ways time to time."

"What do you mean?"

"Well," Gaster's face shifted slightly, a desire to impress forming on it, "do you recall the jetpack function of the phone she gave you?"

"Yeah. I've never used it since though. Mom won't let her re-fuel it in case it sets something on fire."

"A sage precaution. And this is where I believe I can help. Alphys only saw fit to fuel it through mundane chemical combustion. I, however, can see the usefulness of alternate energy sources."

From his pocket, he withdrew a tiny device vaguely reminiscent of a goat's skull.

"This is a device adapted from the DT Extractor. Rather than piercing a soul directly, it can absorb energy from the determination a soul gives off passively. And I believe with the high quantities you possess, it can power the jetpack by itself. Also you should never need to charge it. May I see your phone?"

This was too easy, thought Gaster, as the excitement at being able to fly clearly swamped Frisk's face. Taking the offered phone, he replaced its regular battery with the device. The phone was slightly bulkier as a result, but the promised benefits outclassed that downside by miles.

"Well, Frisk, try it out."

With mounting anticipation, Frisk navigated down to the option, and allowed a moment's suspense before pressing it.

No sooner than the main thruster unfolded from the phone's body, it fired up immediately, and the phone seemed to vanish as it zoomed out of their hands. A split second later there was a loud crunching noise from above. They barely had time to look up before seeing a mixture of plastic, glass, metal and circuitry fall to the floor from the dent in the ceiling.

"Hmm. The tolerances on the power transformer were set too high. Unfortunate. Oh, there is your SIM Card. All your data and items should be easily recovered. I, erm, shall contact Doctor Alphys for assistance."

* * *

"Not too fast now, I ain't the sprinter of my youth!"

Frisk obligingly slowed down, and Gerson caught up to them. The stumpy wooden cane he'd brought along with him remained tucked under his arm, unused. He was slow but steady, an assessment Frisk found amusing.

"Left up here, past this oak. Boy, it's a heckuva lot bigger than I remember."

This stroll through the woods had been pretty pleasant so far. The town was sweltering in a heat wave, so having an excuse to find cool shade and not be chased out of the house by Toriel to enjoy the weather was a godsend. Gerson was building to something, and he was laying the stage by telling story after story, mostly about their parents, but also about other monsters Frisk had never met, so long as it fit his forte. And Gerson's forte was embarrassment.

"...and there old Scaleywag stood, with the axe in his hand, and your mother looked like a bomb had gone off. 'course, bombs didn't back exist then. Anyway, and then he goes and yells 'What the heck do you mean that's not what you meant by de-tail? Will it grow back?!' Wa ha ha!"

Frisk joined in the laughter. "Did it ever grow back?"

"Straight on at this fork. Oh sure. You know us reptiles. But it was never quite as frilly as he liked after that. Learn an important lesson from that, kid. When you go to the Queen for an audience, clean yer ears out first!"

"What about 'don't be afraid to make sure you heard what you thought'?"

"Well sure, I guess, but it ain't as funny. Right once we cross the stream. Of course, that was just the Queen's revenge. Not that she meant it! But when she first met Scaleywag _he_ was shocked at how she used to..."

This part of the story wasn't quite as funny. There had been some sort of diplomatic etiquette that Toriel always adhered to, but Gerson had never learned what it was, so something was lost in the telling. The gist was it reminded Scaleywag of a secret sign a sworn enemy of his liked to give and he'd accused her of being in league with him.

"...but then he yelled so much that spittle got on her fur, an' that's when young Fluffybuns stood up. Boy, you could spit in his face all day long an' he'd ask for more, but you treat his wife with respect! The first of maybe five times I ever saw him that mad. Oh! We're here!"

What looked like a large clump of bushes stood in the middle of a clearing. Gerson looked around a little, but decided only the bushes were worth examining. They approached slowly. Gerson finally used his cane to swat some leaved aside, revealing a small wooden structure with a roof.

"It ain't rotted. Heh, built to last! Looks like the humans used it for a while after we left. Shame they tore down the rest of it. Lookit that."

Frisk looked up. On the threshold of the structure was a wooden panel, the Delta Rune carved into it.

"This," he said, "was the gazebo in the Royal Garden. And at that there table, that's where Asgore asked Toriel to marry him."

Frisk's eyes lit up with wonder, but it was short lived. They rubbed their arm and looked at the solid table, their mind clearly wandering to how things had turned out from that happy start.

"Yeah, I know," he rested a leathery hand on their shoulder, "you ain't the only one. I was there, after all. But they're talkin' these days, right? Better than what they had a few years ago. I just thought this'd be something nice to talk about with 'em."

Frisk gently rested their own hand on the one on their shoulder, and squeezed it gratefully.

"Now, you brought them sandwiches, right? We can have our picnic right here!"

Frisk's rather bulkier phone soon regurgitated a large pile of sandwiches, as well as some popato chisps and hot dogs. They sat in the cool shade of the gazebo for an hour, washing it all down with Sea Tea and a renewed stream of stories. This was too easy, thought Gerson.

"Whoops, look at the time! Don't want a royal search party to get sent out. Not to worry, I know a shortcut."

"Are you sure? It's been a while..."

"Nah. Back of my hand stuff. Follow me, we just have to follow this path..."

Twenty minutes later the path was blocked off by entrance to a quarry that had not existed the last time Gerson had walked it. Undaunted, he backtracked a bit and went down a different fork, only to find a river whose course had been diverted a century ago. They eventually found a bridge, but by the time they crossed the river Gerson was struggling to keep up his confidence. It didn't help that the sun was setting.

"Say, uh, you got a torch in that phone?"

Frisk sighed, and called Undyne. She usually jogged in this forest.

* * *

Gaster couldn't remember the last time he'd been motivated by something so... small. It was kind of thrilling.

Deciding that just repeating Plan A would be less than effective, he ensured Plan B was rigorously tested and peer reviewed. Though the disinterested thumbs up Sans had given him was less reassuring than it ought to be. But before it could be put into effect, an opportunity for Plan C emerged.

"Hi, Doctor Gaster. Could you help me with my homework?"

His assorted limbs froze and unified. "Has your mother set this homework?"

"No, it's maths. She teaches literature and history. Oh, but don't tell her I asked. I don't think she approves of help like this."

"Ah, but if it's merely to help you understand the concept, there is no such academic dishonesty. Teach a human to fish, as they say."

"Okay, thanks! It's long division."

"I see. That can be unintuitive if you don't have the right mindset. Let me see..."

A blackboard was wiped clean with two spare hands, and soon Frisk was in an impromptu maths lesson. Things started well, the examples Gaster invented were navigated without too much trouble. But when Frisk moved to solve the problems set by their teacher, they got stuck after a while.

"What do you think is troubling you, child?"

"It's these decimal points. It's hard to keep track of what goes where."

"I see. Well, how did you fare with long multiplication?"

"I understood that fine, but it's-"

Gaster wasn't listening. He had already turned to the blackboard and was writing out an example of long multiplication. It was important for Frisk to understand one side of the coin before delving into the other.

"You see how in long multiplication, the digits shift like this once you pass the decimal point? And how it is only the ten to the zero position that remains where it is?"

"'Ten to the zero'? What's that?"

"Ah, your teacher has neglected bases. Well you see, while commonly we use a base ten system for everyday use, there are other bases we avail of for specific scientific purposes. Nearly all computers avail of a binary system. That is base two. Merely ones and zeroes and no other digits..."

And much like a binary tree, a topic that mercifully never came up that evening, Gaster fell into tangent after tangent. Frisk's head was stuffed full of at least seven different bases before he returned to long multiplication. And a stray question encouraged him to go over Frisk's times tables, something they had nominally mastered before ever coming to the Underground. But now with their head so fried, Gaster resolved to explain how multiplication was essentially a condensed form of addition. And now he was truly on a roll. He would make sure Frisk understood how the very soul of mathematics worked. The climax being a PhD level demonstration on his blackboard that proved, decisively, that one plus one equals two. But for all those tangents, once he had finally exhausted them, something seemed to click with Frisk. In determined silence they solved the next two long division problems effortlessly.

"Thanks, Doctor. Took us a while, but we-" They suddenly looked out the window and froze. It occurred to Gaster that there was a lot less light coming in than when Frisk first arrived. "What time is it?!"

He looked at his clock. It was 10:43pm. On a Tuesday. Meanwhile Frisk was shoving their half-finished homework and everything into their bag, including a spare Bunsen burner he had lying around.

"Mom's gonna kill me! I haven't called or anything! And I won't have time to finish this tomorrow!"

Oh dear. He'd done it again. Perhaps Plan B?

"Well, erm, if you are already tardy, perhaps you'd like to see what I've developed?"

Incredulity was etched into their face. And he of all people knew better than to test Toriel's patience. But still, perhaps pushing on could remedy the situation.

"It is another addition to your phone. A much less volatile one, don't worry! The anomaly inspired me. It can allow you to send text messages not just through space, but through time." They actually listened to this, immediately seizing on the opportunity this presented. "Write out a message to your mother saying how I wanted to show you something. And then I can send another message from my phone saying it took longer than I thought, but I would escort you home. I can set them to arrive at 6pm and 8pm respectively."

Still looking intensely nervous, Frisk agreed, tapping it out hastily, as Gaster wrote his. Hooking the two identical devices up and twiddling with the settings, both messages sent. Gaster then immediately escorted Frisk home confident the damage had at least been mitigated. The look on Toriel's face told him otherwise. Frisk obeyed her silent command to walk in, and all he received was a curt thank you. He felt rather dejected.

The next evening he received a surprising phone call. Toriel and Frisk had been at dinner, and she wanted to know why she'd received a text saying he'd invited Frisk round, when Frisk was grounded for a few days. Ah. He'd forgotten to carry the one.

* * *

"...at least I finished the homework over lunch. Sometimes he has a knack for engraving stuff into your head."

"Tough break, kiddo." Gerson's triumph was poorly concealed. He'd just received a large donation from a human family who'd had been clearing out an elderly relative's house, and he was sifting what he'd try to sell himself and what would go to regular charity shops. Frisk was thumbing through a battered old novel. "Welp, that's old Dings for ya. Won't use two words when a thousand'll do."

"I guess. It was weird, I never saw him so excited before."

"Gosh, wonder what's lit a fire under him? Bet it's gone out now though!"

Closing the book shut, Frisk moved over to the second box as Gerson took out a dusty candlestick from the now-empty first box, and shoved it over for him to start examining its contents.

"Real silver that, should fetch a pretty penny. Pretty sure that teaset is a replica. See, there are machine tool marks that are the devil to try and find, but I found 'em!"

"Good eye, Gerson!"

"Ha! Just the one, mind, but I've been puttin' it to the test!"

He'd certainly done a good job lifting Frisk's spirits after they had been released from solitary confinement. It took the opposite of his usual approach. Rather than deluge them in more stories, listening to their frustrations at Gaster was as good as that. He hadn't caught how Frisk had stopped from mentioning their adventure with him a couple of times.

"Huh. Family Coat of Arms. These are way too specific to just sell to the public, maybe I should call 'em back an' ask if they want this."

Frisk stared at the shield trophy he'd put to one side. "Do monsters have coat of arms?"

"Not unless they pick 'em themselves. Don't normally hand them down though. You pick a symbol, it's yours. Why give it to someone who might not even care, even if you're related? Only real exception is the Delta Rune. 'spose it works as a coat of arms for the Dreemurrs. An' you too, heh!"

Frisk looked pleased. "That's pretty cool. Maybe Dad can make one for me."

An opportunity presented itself. "Hey, you're seeing Asgore later, right?" Frisk nodded. "I got something you can show him!"

"If it's that souvenir from Mom's birthday, he's already got like twenty. Even Mom still has hers."

"Nah, this is special."

Pulling out a key on a necklace, Gerson unlocked a cupboard behind the counter. Setting a few pieces aside he extracted an old box and placed it on the counter. Frisk accepted the invitation to open it up. A highly polished wood carving in the shape of a shield rested inside. Like most Monster Souvenirs it had the Delta Rune, but also a large ornate 'A' resting on top of it.

"This is super rare. These were made when he was crowned king to celebrate. Same wood as that gazebo! Lost most of 'em after the war, there are maybe four left. He never even managed to keep his. Was savin' it for when he hits the big six-five-oh, but maybe it'd be nicer coming from you."

That did it. Their face was alight with wonder, and it stuck this time. Before he realised it he was being squeezed in a hug. Surely victory was his.

He had just been locking up when the phone rang to inform him how wrong he was. Deep sobbing could be heard in the background, and Frisk was choked up as well.

"Th-that wasn't a Coronation Souvenir!"

"Huh?"

"It was to celebrate his birth!"

"Asgore's birth? But nobody ever-"

"Not Dad's! _His_!"

"His...? Oh..."

His olive face turned to something like lime. Silently he hung up, and opened the cupboard again. Rooting around very carefully, he located a similar box to the one he gave Frisk, and peeked inside. A similar shield looked up at him. But it had a much more detailed patina from age, and its 'A' was much simpler. That day, in the Underground, a whole tree had fallen into Waterfall. Uprooted by a storm no doubts. And sure enough, it was the same type of tree that had built the gazebo. The King and Queen had taken it as a sign. Toriel had always admired penmanship and calligraphy more than Asgore did, so of course it looked fancier. He'd been too eager to tell them apart.

* * *

Sunday lived up to its name. Gerson sat in the park in the middle of town, pondering the highs and lows of yesterday. He eyed the patch of Golden Flowers that had started growing not long after coming to the surface, and for reasons he didn't understand they were another blow to his mood. No getting out of it, he'd screwed up. He'd ripped open a wound that had never really healed, and rubbed salt in it. Fighting so hard to win a contest he'd jumped headlong into he risked losing the prize. Been a while since he'd done something that stupid. Sunlight always made him think like a stupid teenager. His thoughts continued in this vein for a while, before he heard a light rustling of grass behind him.

"How ya doin', Dings?"

"You remember me without line of sight or prompting? Hmm, promising."

Doctor Gaster rounded the bench and sat down.

"What brings ya out of your lab?"

"The human. I had something urgent to discuss. But they were neither at the King or Queen's house."

"Yeah? Reckon they'll be avoidin' us for a while."

"Ah, you too? What was it?"

"Remindin' Asgore of the best and worst days of his life."

Gaster nodded solemnly. "I was caught up in it too. Wanting to impress someone, like Grandpapa had turned up and was holding his clipboard to examine my performance. I got carried away."

"Heh, yeah."

"Old friend, perhaps we should call a truce-?"

But they had both spotted it. Frisk walking down the street. Gerson's remorse spurred him to action first.

"Frisk! Kiddo! Listen, I'm sorry about that mix up, I really am."

Frisk looked more surprised than anything. "Oh, uh, okay."

"Look, anything you wanna do, just say. I'll not suggest anything, I'll not offer anything, you're in the driver's seat."

"Well I was just-"

"Young one!" Gaster had just caught up. "This is urgent. I've made a major breakthrough. If you come to my lab I think we can do it. We can-"

There was a twinkle in Frisk's eyes, but they were also conflicted. "Well can it wait until-"

"Hey, I offered first," yelled Gerson, "at least wait for them to turn me down."

"You do not understand, this is more than selfish desire for restitution, it's-"

"Really?" His remorse had somehow stoked his competitiveness. "It's not even a little bit about winning?"

"Seriously, I was gonna-"

"If it were about that," said Gaster, surrendering to the fact it was now about that, "I might suggest a tiebreaker, like how they are friends with both Sans and Papyrus."

"Ha! They're good kids, but they also like Undyne."

"She's not your daughter."

"Close enough! An' Captain of the Guard to boot!"

"The 'Captain of the Guard' who managed to burn her house down all by herself."

Frisk chuckled nervously. "Uh, yeah. Entirely by herself."

"Besides, even she likes Papyrus."

"That doesn't count, everyone likes Papyrus! _I_ like Papyrus! An' I can help Frisk have a proper past."

"And I can give them the future they desire, and not just them, if you'd only listen-"

"Look, we'll just ask."

"Fine."

They both turned. "Frisk, we want to know which of us-"

The question died as it hit the space Frisk had been. They both looked around wildly.

"There. Grillby's."

The door had barely stopped swinging when the two of them started it up again. Looking around the room they spotted Frisk in a booth. Grillby had already served them.

"Thanks, Grillby. Wow, this smells great! You know, sometimes I think of you like you're my Granddad, ha ha."

Grillby regarded Frisk without reacting at all, before turning and walking straight past the frozen rivals.

"Oh, hi again. Why don't you take a seat? He's widened these booths, your shell should fit."

It took longer than Frisk thought for them to carefully shuffle in. They sat and watched as Frisk began to eat.

"You, uh," began Gerson, "you think Grillby's like a Grandpappy?"

"I guess," Frisk shrugged, "I mean he's given me a really cool gift?"

"What gift," asked Gaster, "Trinkets? Electronics?"

"A tab."

"An'... an' food's all you want?"

"Well it's all I want now, I skipped breakfast. I was starving. Sometimes you gotta stay focused on the present. Learned that the hard way." They took a large bite out of the burger. Their guests stared blankly, and it invited understanding of everything that had happened. "So you were competing to see who I thought...? Well that explains why you looked ready to kill each other."

"It was... After you rescued me..."

"An' after you freed us..."

"I... we're just so grateful..."

"We thought you might consider one of us..."

Frisk grinned. "Well... who says I can't have three granddads?"

Gaster's face looked particularly unstable at that moment. "But after all we did..."

Frisk chewed on a couple of fries with precision. "You went overboard, for sure. But there were benefits. When Alphys fixed my phone, she upgraded it with more storage, and she perfected your design, Monsterkid was super jealous, since it doesn't work for him. Mom looked so happy when I told her about the gazebo, she even told me how her dad reacted. I've been getting full marks in maths all week. And last night... well it was painful for Dad, but we talked about him for a long time. Nothing recent, just what he remembered. It was mostly about the happy times. He hasn't really had the chance to talk about it for so long, and I think he really needed to, even if he didn't know. Did you know he was still asleep when I woke up this morning? First time I saw that since I met him. You both do good stuff for me. But different stuff. And so does Grillby. So does everyone, really."

"Child, I... I'm sorry. I let my feelings take me back to adolescence, and lost sight of what I want to do."

"Well sometimes feelings take a while to get used to. I've seen it before. Just, maybe ask before you try this again? Maybe flip a coin?"

"Sure thing, kid, if that's what you want. Least we can do."

"Okay," Frisk had a look of getting down to business they had copied from Toriel, "Doctor, you said it was urgent?"

"Well, it is important. It could culminate in complete success."

Frisk eyed him with hope. But also...

"Well, can it wait until after lunch?"

"...I suppose so."

"And Gerson, know any other historical sites?"

"Oh, sure! May want to bring an up to date map though."

Frisk smiled. "Well if we have time we can do that later. Might be next weekend though." The hope was complimented by determination. "Grillby, can you add two meals to my tab?"

**Author's Note:**

> Pastebin Version: https://pastebin.com/0VQrCDhb
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> Let me know what you think, and thanks for reading!


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